


Harry of House Dracul

by JMTGryphon86



Category: Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, Dracula - Bram Stoker, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hellsing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harem, F/F, F/M, Female Homosexuality, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, Parent/Child Incest, Shameless Smut, Vampire!Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMTGryphon86/pseuds/JMTGryphon86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a descendant of Vlad the Impaler, the worlds most notorious Vampire.  It is only thanks to Vampire blood that he and his mother survive the Avada Kedavra as vampires.  Now as the young Prince of Vampires, Harry and his mother live among a harem of women including vampires, werewolves, gorgons, veela, succubi, elves and drow. What happens though when darkness rises again as the Dark Lord of Britain tries to take on new Prince of Wallachia?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Castle of Dracula

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money from this story.

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Rating: Rated M

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Warning: This story contains depictions of women with exaggerated measurements solely for entertainment purposes. If the depictions of women in a overly sexual manner in line with some male's ideal fantasies is offensive to you, then please do not continue beyond this point. This story will depict women in the nude and lingerie as well as performing lesbian acts and taking part in a mass harem. This is your warning.

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Languages:

"Hello" - English

 _"Hello" -_ Other Languages

 _'Hello'_ \- Thoughts

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The ancient castle stood, half carved into the side of the ancient Carpathian Mountains and half built from loose stones and wooden beams, as a silhouette against the star filled sky. It was only here and there where fires burned in sconces long rusted by centuries past.  Wolves howled in the nearby woods startling the horses that pulled the creaking mud splattered carriage up the long untraveled road.  No one had ventured up the road in over a century, none of the villagers wishing to lay eyes upon the gargoyle manned towers and the rotting bones that served as watchmen.

Dulled blue eyes glanced through half-moon spectacles toward the long thought abandoned castle.  An aged hand stroked the waist length beard of white as he contemplated what needed to be done.  His periwinkle robes clashed against the deep brown leather that covered the padded seat in which he sat.  The wrinkles on his face were looser than ever from the long journey and bumps upon the road that had tired him considerably in his well advanced age.

The other hand held a bassinet in place so as to not have it fall to the ground amidst all the bumps and rocking along the winding road through the ancient re-grown forest.  He tried desperately to keep his mind from the thoughts of just how many lives had been lost in the trees surrounding the road.  How the ground itself had become so iron rich by absorbing countless gallons of human blood from bodies impaled upon the then branch stripped trees. 

The eyes turned to the man he had brought along in an attempt to test the man’s loyalty after his recently sworn oath.  The man’s greasy hair fell around his face in strings, partially blocking the shallow yellowed skin of his face if not for its parting by his long hooked nose.  His lips were chapped and peeling as his hands opened and closed seemingly in agitation at his having been brought along.  His black robes were dulled and streaked in stains of blood and potions as his blackening nails dug into his skin.

The air around the second man was fouled by the scent of death and carnage clinging to his soul and by the bits of animal, vegetation and mineral that he had hacked and ground to pieces in order to make his concoctions.  “I don’t see why I was forced to accompany you, Headmaster,” the man said, his voice almost matching the crunch of gravel beneath the wheels of the carriage.  “I have no desire to be near the brat until I’m forced to when he attends school.”

“You are here, Severus,” the old man began with a clear tone of disapproval, “as backup in case things should not go as I have guessed they would.”  The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, despised the loathsome creature that sat across from him, bound to him as a servant to a master by vow to die should he betray his trust.  He knew Severus Snape was a man of sin he had to be to have followed the likes of Britain’s most recent Dark Lord whose followers were known to rape and murder muggles, muggle-born, half-bloods and purebloods without discrimination, no matter what they tried to say.

Severus had come to him a man obsessed with unrequited love for a woman he had pushed away years before.  He thought nothing of her husband and child being murdered but held delusions that their deaths would have been justified so long as Lily Potter nee Evans would seek his arms for comfort.  He had turned on his previous master for the sake of his obsession but not before attempting to name himself the Half-Blood Prince and delving into dark magic only just below those of his old Lord. “Lily’s blood and sacrifice has created a safe haven for her child, and while I wish that protection had existed in England the jealousy and petty hatred of the Dursley’s halted the blood wards from establishing around their home and instead rising here, at the ancient castle of her ancestor.”

From his seat across from the black clad potion master, he could see the uncertain black eyes of his servant shift toward the castle growing ever nearer and shudder.  For a moment Albus wondered why the man who had stood in Lord Voldemort’s shadow would be repulsed by the stone and wood before he felt a familiar sensation soak through his body.  Wards, powerful enchantments that protected an item or dwelling from a variation of things were seated around the castle, drenched in more blood and black magic than Tom Riddle could have ever hoped to have spilled.

The growling barking of wolves grew nearer and the passengers inside the carriage could see eyes, illuminated by moon and starlight glaring at the carriage in hunger from the shadows of the trees.  As the carriage drew closer to the castle gates the large Elder wood doors leading into the shadowed recesses of the castle opened, revealing a woman with raven hair and dressed in sheer red lace that reached her waist.  The large orbs of her pale breasts bounced slightly as she seemed to float toward the carriage with no care for her exposed pale legs or her soles of her feet picking their way across the ground.

Despite his own preferences the Headmaster could certainly see the attractiveness of the vampire woman.  Her long raven hair was twisted into a thick braid that fell over her shoulder accentuating the curve of her breasts.  Her waist was thin, but not ludicrously so, and gave birth to her shapely legs that had held more than one man in place as she fed. Her dark eyes held a glimmer of something resembling amusement, her thick luscious red lips were pulled in a smirk as she took in the shadows inside the carriage.

Albus’ eyes turned toward his former student to see the hunger appear within his void like eyes once more at the sight of the dark haired Romanian beauty and sighed.  The old man was perfectly aware of the effects vampire women had upon the weak willed mind, even one trapped behind the walls of Occlumency and often wondered if it was merely his own sexual preferences or something more that left him unaffected by the allure of vampire and veela.  Alas however, they there sensations he would never feel and felt no fear as he opened the carriage door and stepped out to meet their hostess.

 _“Supreme Mugwump Albus Dumbledore,”_ the woman said in her native tongue as she approached the elderly man with a sultry smile, exposing just a hint of her elongated canine. _“We have awaited your arrival since we received your owl.  Do not fear though, the bird merely rests in the alcoves high inside the castle, resting for its journey home.”_ Albus had to wonder slightly if the seductress knew of any other smile as she gently held out her hand for him to bring to his lips.  _“I am Cosmina, the leader of our sect the oldest within the castle grounds.  You have arrived in time; Crina arrived merely yesterday from your dreary country.”_

 _“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cosmina, I am afraid I have so little time to meet with fellow representatives of the Confederation,”_ he answered, speaking the native tongue.  Something about what she had said churned in his mind however.  The name Crina, he knew it meant something but it seemed to slip through his aging mind for the moment.  _“If you would please, allow my servant Severus and I room and board for the night we shall happily discuss the important reason why I have arrived upon your door.”_

The raven haired woman’s eyes slipped past the man whose appearance was older than her own and into the carriage, a smile tugging at her full and lush lips.  _“You’ve brought the babe of whom you spoke the other evening in New York when you told us of your Dark Lord’s defeat,”_ she said with purr.  _“A child whose magic is already seeped in blood and whom needs protection, the hero of Britain,”_ she whispered.  _“Come now, Crina will be most pleased to see the babe and we shall have the elves begin preparation of a meal for your… mortal tastes,”_ she finished with a chuckle.

Albus’ blue eyes suddenly flared back into startling, twinkling life as he put the clues that Cosmina had let slip together in his mind.  Turning to the carriage he waved his hand for Severus to hand him the child before stepping out himself.  “Severus, we shall stay the night and return by portkey to Hogwarts in the morning.  As it stands, Lady Cosmina here has graciously allowed us to stay the night within the castle to rest from our long journey.”

“If we were just going to portkey home, Headmaster, why did we not use one to reach all the way out here?  Boats, trains and carriages are not my preferred method of travel,” the greasy haired man nearly spat as he handed the child out to the older man before following it out.  Shutting the carriage door seemed to be a signal as the driver quickly snapped the reigns for his horses and began journey back through the blood stained forest.  A casual sweep of the wand was enough to float their luggage back to them.

“Now Severus, where would be the adventure in that,” the Headmaster of Hogwarts asked with a laugh in his voice at Severus’ grumblings.

Cosmina ignored the English words she could understand just as well as her own language and sneered at the greasy potions master as though looking at a particularly muddy dog rolling on the furniture.   Decided to ignore him for the moment she stepped closer to the Supreme Mugwump and let her gaze fall onto the child.  He was a plump baby, the sort she and her sisters had feasted on in days of old when their master had still lived, the young fresh blood helping to fight the acts of aging better than that of an adults, but the boy’s magic sang, from his messy raven hair to the toes of his footy pajamas. 

 _“Crina is excited, I can feel it,”_ she moaned as she reached out to take the babe from the old man, holding him close to her ample chest as she began to seemingly glide back toward the castle.  Her chocolate eyes lifted toward one of the towers in time to see a swath of copper toned air flee into the shadows. She could feel her new sister’s excitement as she could feel every creature within the stone walls, but even stronger were her sisters the women who had the blood of their former master rushing through their veins.

Albus merely smiled to himself as he followed the hostess into the castle, his steamer trunk gliding effortlessly behind him.  Severus though was ranting in his head about the injustice of the world.  Not only was the Potter brat loved by Lily in a way he would never have but he was rich, famous, and would be living in a castle all before the age of two!  If he hadn’t made an unbreakable vow to protect the boy he would have slung a curse at the brat now to end the arrogance he knew the boy would have by the time he reached eleven.

The group made their way into the greeting hall just as the thick doors closed behind them without a hand upon them.  The eerie dankness and moldering cobwebs the two Englishmen had suspected were absent, and in their place was a solid, well lit stone pillars, polished to ivory white and inlaid with gold and thick draperies of a rusty red as though dyed in blood.  Grand staircases led upwards in three directions to the higher levels and overly stuffed chairs, chaise lounges and pillows were positioned around a mahogany table filled with thick voluminous books and magazines atop a wide spread Persian rug.

Women of seemingly every race were stretch out languidly around the room like cats, reading or talking and from the noise level the two men could gather that more were out of sight beyond the doors of the floor they were on and up in the castle beyond.  “Ah, you see, don’t you Severus,” the Headmaster asked as he turned to his servant who would be assisting Mr. Filch cleaning the castle come next year.  Despite the rumors started by Lucius Malfoy, Albus was not so senile that he would allow a Death Eater to have unrestricted access to students behind closed doors, no matter what vows he forced upon the man.  “The dilapidated exterior is merely a charm to keep others at bay, much like Hogwarts appearing in ruin to Muggles.”

His blue eyes twinkled as he gazed around the room with a smile.  Not all the women in the room were vampires; he would dare say only the smallest percentage was so called creatures of the night.  A group of veela laughed in the corner of the room as a pack of women he would guess were werewolves during the full moons sat on or around a sofa whispering and passing a book on potion brewing back and forth.  Twin gorgons were sipping wine next to the fire seemingly arguing in hushed tones about something that couldn’t be made out over the hissing of their snake hair.

 _“Lady Cosmina, when I was first introduced to you, you mentioned your home and coven were made of those looking to escape persecution for who and what they were, I was afraid I did not quite understand the meaning of such a thing until this moment,”_ Albus said in awe as a High-elven woman, long since thought to the world walked by with a fierce looking drow carrying a sheathed long-sword over her shoulder.  He had long understood that the wizarding world was behind the muggle world on many things, equal rights between male and female being just one of many but he had not suspected so many women from so many races and nationalities would feel the need to hide away from the world in the depths of the Carpathian Mountains.

One glance at Snape would have given anyone context for why the women were hiding from the world.  His beady eyes were narrowed as he tried to calculate just how much of the world’s strongest love potion, Amortentia, it would take to have the women in just the room to lay with him.  His leering gaze was met with more than a few sneers as women began to mutter to one another and move away from his presence. 

 _“Ladies,”_ Cosmina began with a smile as she made her way into their midst.  _“May I give you our master’s true heir, a creature of neither life nor death whom can survive the Avada Kedavra.  Behold the heir to the throne of Wallachia, the Vampire Prince, Harry.”_ Albus’ eyes widened when he heard the woman speak, having just realized that his original hypothesis was indeed incorrect.  Sure enough, his eyes landed on the upstairs banister in time to see the angular face, curtained by deep coppery red hair stare down at the assembled group with wide almond shaped green eyes.

“Harry,” the English voiced name caused Severus’ head to snap up toward the stairs where a sight he had never thought to behold again stood.  Lily’s red hair was a blur as she moved down the steps toward the main floor where the potion master tried to throw himself in front of her.  However, her green eyes held nothing for him as he was shoved with tremendous strength across the length of the room as the mother raced to hold her child.  “Oh, Harry, sweetie, mummy missed you so much,” the red headed woman crooned as she peppered the child’s face in kisses as soon as she liberated him from Cosmina’s arms, tears running down her cheeks.

“I really don’t know what else he might have expected to happen,” a voice said with amusement, and turning away from his unconscious servant to the landing above.  A pair of women wearing sheer negligee much like their hostess were leaning against the safety rail with smirks on their faces.  The blond haired woman casually flicked her hair over her shoulder showing her blue eyes as she grinned at her former headmaster from beside her older raven haired sister.

“Ah, the Black Sisters,” Albus said with a frown as he tried to discern whether or not the dark haired daughter of house Black was Andromeda or Bellatrix, it was so difficult to tell the two twins apart even back when they were in school.  “I’m sorry Narcissa, but what brings you out here, I thought you were married to Lucius Malfoy with young Draco.”

The blond haired woman shook her head in amusement.  “The contract between the Ancient and Noble House of Black and the Lesser House of Malfoy had a glaring loop hole.  If any action of the Malfoy family would tarnish the House of Black the contract is no longer valid.  I left a week after the wedding when he went to a Death Eater meeting,” she said with a shrug.  “I have no idea who Draco Malfoy’s mother is.”

Albus pursed his lips in thought before he nodded in understanding.  That certainly seemed to be something the Pureblood families would do, he wouldn’t doubt that Narcissa had skipped out with quite a bit of the Malfoy fortune. 

 _“Come my sisters, and Supreme Mugwump, it is time for dinner,”_ Cosmina said as she turned away from the sight of the mother and son being reunited.  _“Tomorrow night we shall have a feast on behold of the return of the Prince.”_ Albus Dumbledore could only smile as the large assembly of women moved toward the dining room.  He had been unsure of bringing the prophesized child to such place known for cruelty and death, but he had reunited a son with his mother and that gave him a sense of accomplishment he hadn’t felt since long before he met Gellert Grindlewald in battle.

Severus cursed as he climbed to feet from where he had been sprawled out on the floor a welt already beginning to form where the back of his head had caught the hard stone floor.  Out of all the possible ideal ways he had thought of his reunion with his childhood friend to go, being thoughtlessly shoved out of the way for a _Potter_ was not one of them.  His humiliation only mounted as he heard laughter coming from a nearby staircase and saw the two sister of the Black family walking arm in arm toward the main floor.  His eyes narrowed at the sight of Narcissa, he was certain that the last time he had been in conctact with Lucius the vain Pureblood had said their marriage was doing fine and she had simply been watching over the baby.  “What are you doing here Narcissa?  When Lucius learns that you and Draco have…”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the woman’s laughter at him, something that put his teeth on edge.  “Severus really, I just went over all this with Albus while you were unconscious on the floor, and I see no need to explain it again, least of all to you.”  She held herself with all the dignity of her family’s house, as her sister did beside her.  “Now, if you don’t mind, dinner is being served and we wouldn’t want to be late.  I do believe the elves had an exquisite roast planned for those of us who eat meat.”

If he hadn’t been surrounded by all manners of inferior creatures who would probably find a way to do him harm he would have hexed the bitch then and there.  “Fine,” he snarled as he managed to lift himself to his feet.  “What of you,” he said turning his eyes toward the dark curly haired sister, her violet eyes glaring back into his own.  “Which sister are you then?”

Said woman sneered at him in a way he could have only hoped to match with years of experience as though sizing him up to see if he was worth answering.  “I am Andromeda Black, the older twin,” she finally answered.  A sigh escaped at as Severus seemed to take the fact she wasn’t Bellatrix to gaze down at her body.  While Narcissa’s teddy, garter belt and leggings had been made of white lace her own had been constructed of a light green with subtle silver highlights in remembrance of her old school house and showed off a body mostly left untouched by the birth of her daughter years before.  “Get over yourself, Snape, no woman in their right mind would let you touch them.”

Grumbling and in a huff, the black clad man followed the two sisters into a massive ballroom lit by three fire places and chandeliers overhead.  A long table covered in a table cloth that he assumed to have been extended by magic was covered in food, goblets, plates and cutlery even more garish in his eyes than those used at Hogwarts’ feasts.  While Albus was making himself comfortable among the throng of women he purposefully sat at the end where he would have to get dragged into conversation.

He found, to his bemusement, his sitting arrangement put him nearer the sisters than he would have appreciated as well as the odd pairing of the nude blond elf and plum haired drow.  “Feawen,” Narcissa spoke first as she idly slid a portion of roasted lamb onto her plate.  “I remember you were telling me about why your’ people, and yours as well Alaun,” she said nodded toward the dark skinned underdweller.  “I’ve always been fascinated by the Elves, so what can you tell me about house-elves?”

The blond haired elf visibly flinched at the mention of the small towel clothed creatures, letting Severus know she was the one named Feawen and the drow Alaun.  “House-elves are disgusting creatures,” she started as she began to slide a healthy amount of salad onto her own golden plate.  “They’re people were once elves, though we do not speak of them, before a half-elven half-wizard Dark Lord came to power.  He captured their people, twisting them through potions and torture into the abominations of our kind, Orcs.”  Both elves turned and spat onto the ground at the name.  “Over time their mutilated bodies couldn’t contain their magic and they began to shrivel and shrink in upon themselves.  Eventually they bound themselves to human wizards to siphon off their magic, but found their own spells backfiring and their will enslaved to those whom they were bound too.”

“Horrid beasts,” Alaun sniffed as happily lifted a wiggling spider between her thumb and forefinger and bit into it, ignoring the nearly imperceptible squeal of pain from the arachnid as its body was torn in two. “They used to feed off whatever creatures they could butcher in hopes of regaining their magic; humans, elves even centaurs or each other.  They have no sympathy from our people nor do they deserve it.  When I discovered they were in the castle I nearly took my blade to them before Cosmina stopped me.”

Closer to the head of the table Lily and her child were the center of attention.  It had been a number of years, not since Andromeda had come to them, pregnant with Nymphadora, since a baby had been in the castle.  Now though, it wasn’t just a baby but the blood heir of the infamous Vlad Dracula, a baby born with the blood of the undead in its veins and able to survive the Killing Curse.  To escape the attention though the baby had curled in on itself, nuzzling into his mothers bosom to avoid any more words of adoration or ticklish fingers.

As the copper toned red-head was reaching forward to take up the goblet of blood she was now forced to drink to survive, she felt something she had not expected, something her son had not done in nearly a year.  His chubby little hands pulled her robe to the side, exposing her breast to the table before he wrapped his lips around her areola.  A shudder passed through her body, which she hated to admit had been overly sexually stimulated since she had first risen from the dead as her baby began to nurse from her again.

If the sudden suction hadn’t been bad enough, the draw of milk that she hadn’t even realized her body was producing through her breast was enough to cause her eyes to close and whimper to escape her lips.  Her face flushed in embarrassment as she found herself growing aroused and the nearby werewolves were audibly sniffing the air as her pheromones increased.  She was nearly driven over the edge by the sudden sharp pain of a bite and realized her own son had pierced her breast with a set of miniscule fangs.

The convulsion that she would swear was _NOT_ an orgasm crashed through her body as she felt the gentle pull of the blood through her veins along with the draw of milk through her breast.  She felt herself now only growing considerably moist but fiercely protective of the child in her arms.  It was as if a beast had risen in the back of her mind, snarling and gnashing its teeth at the women who were still trying to steal glances at her son.  Harry was hers, her child, and she wouldn’t, she couldn’t share him with anyone especially now as she felt an oneness with her son she hadn’t felt since she had carried him within her womb.

A hand on her shoulder nearly caused her to snarl as she turned her green eyes on the woman beside her.  Faola, the head of the werewolf pack was staring at her with a knowing look in her eye.  “It’s alright,” she whispered so no one, other than possibly her pack or the elves could hear. “We’re the same way with our cubs,” she stopped to sniff the air and licked her lips.  “Well, not quite the same, but I can understand the rage and protectiveness rolling off of you.  How about, once you put the little Dragon to bed, I’ll show you to my room and help you and I can work through your,” she paused for a moment, and when she spoke it again it was nearly purring, “Frustration.”

Faola, Lily realized, was a beautiful woman.  Irish, if she had the accent right, with long vibrant red hair reaching to her perk, round ass.  Even as the werewolf leaned into her, she could feel the woman’s hardened nipples pushing against her flesh.  She fought to try and ignore the stimulation, the lust rising inside her, but found her head nodding even as she was trying to decide.

“Excellent,” Cosmina’s voice sang out in English even though her accent was unrepentantly heavy.  “I had wondered if I might speak with you, Crina,” she said, using her nickname for the English red-head, “about something involving our young lord.  I had wondered if you would not mind sharing him among the older women, allowing them to feed him as you are doing now.  Perhaps his young body would benefit and adapt to some of our sisters stronger abilities?”

“You mean to use him as a guinea pig,” Lily almost shouted in surprise.  She turned to her former Headmaster, but he seemed to be in deep thought, idly chewing a rather leathery cut of beef.  “How do we know the blood of anything but a human or vampire won’t poison him?  He is only a baby, my baby,” she nearly hissed the two words, “I won’t have him take part in something that could possibly kill him.”

It was then that Albus Dumbledore decided to speak up.  “Actually, Lily, I think young Harry would be fine.  Do not forget of whose blood runs through his veins.  Vlad Dracula was known for his ability to transform into a wolf, bat and even mist.  This might just be the old alchemist in me rearing his head, but I don’t think it would be a bad decision to try.  Perhaps you could include Veela, Succubi, or even the elves if they are interested.  In any case, I would find most amusing to know that the wizarding world’s savior was as little pure-blooded as possible,” he finished with a chuckle.

Lily thought about what her former Headmaster and leader, as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, said. She was still hesitant and still that part of her was roaring that the child that gave her such pleasure was hers and hers alone, not to be shared with the world, though she tried to ignore it.  “I shall give it one week,” she finally relented, if anything to shut up the possessive voice in her head.  “If he shows no ill effects to it than we shall see about continuing this experiment of yours.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore exclaimed before wiping his mouth with his napkin to rid his mustache and beard of any lingering crumbs or juices from his meal.  “Meanwhile, I shall begin researching an acceptable aging potion for him.  He is an immortal being now and who knows how long it could take for him to age, or even if he will age.  I believe Professor Slughorn and my old friend Nicholas shall want in on the research.  If I have your permission, Lady Cosmina, I’d like to bring them with me during the Christmas holidays and perhaps make use of what I would assume to be a large glorious library.”

“If they should so desire to come,” the vampire said with a nod toward the professor.  “Our library was quite large when Harker stayed with us, however since we’ve had such an influx of ladies from around the world and of so many backgrounds it has grown well beyond any measure we would have thought possible.  Although, I don’t know how many tomes we have on potions and concoctions in the upper library, I can always have Alaun check the catacombs, Vlad kept many things hidden there.”

“Thank you,” Lily said in surprise to the rest of the group.  “I didn’t even think about Harry needing to grow up.  As a mother, the idea scares me.  He’ll grow older, meet some girl and leave me,” she said the last part in a whisper as she gazed down on her nursing child.  “I honestly don’t want that happen, every instinct I have is fighting against the very idea, but I would hate myself if I confined him to this tiny body as his mind continued to grow.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Faola said, draping an arm around her fellow red-heads shoulders.  “You’re one of us now, a Sister of the Castle.  We won’t do anything that could be potentially harmful to you or the heir to our coven.  You have our word on that.”

Lily couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across her face.  She didn’t know the future; she had no idea what the outcome of their new lives could be on her family.  She only knew that here she felt at peace, not the over whelming since of fear she felt while they had hid from the Dark Lord Voldemort, or the worry of their secret keeper being discovered.

“Oh, Professor Dumbledore, while I have you here, I should inform you that we switched Secret Keepers.  You should have the aurors begin hunting Peter Pettigrew at once.”

* * *

 

That night as Lily put her child in the bed she had been given, she turned to grab some pillows meant to wall her fifteen month old baby in.  When she turned back to the bed though she was shocked to find a pair of women she had never seen before already beneath the blankets cooing and giggling at her sleeping son.  The pair had ebony colored wings spread out beneath them connecting to their bodies between their shoulder blades and their spine.  Their skin was a flaming red color and their bountiful breasts kept her baby cushioned on either side.

“Succubi,” Faola’s voice whispered in her ear, causing Lily to jump slightly even as the other woman’s arms wrapped around her body.  “They’re sexual creatures like veela are only much more aggressive.  While they prefer men, they are not unknown for seducing women as well.  There used to be stories that they ate children, but it isn’t true.  They love children, they used to rescue children from homes that they felt were abusive and the guardians started the rumors.”

Lily moaned as she felt the other red-heads breasts push into her back.  She didn’t consider herself cheating on James, the two of them had never truly experienced matrimony in the way people thought of it.  They had become friends after the first time she had caught him and Sirius Black together in one of the abandoned classrooms.  She had actually been more attracted to women than men and in the backwards society that was Britain’s wizarding world, they would have all been looked down upon by their society, and so the cover-up relationship had been conceived.

The conversation at the meal had brought much to light that hadn’t been revealed to the Headmaster before due to security.  Pettigrew’s betrayal had only been the tip of the iceberg.  Albus had taken an oath of secrecy to the person who had really helped her conceive her son, swearing to not tell even anyone in his Order, or his spy.  Her lover’s secret and place inside the Dark Lord’s inner circle was safe, though she had learned of their supposed actions she had refused to believe it was true.

Now was not the time to think though, her body had been overly sexually stimulated since her return from the grave and after having fed her son, she was worried about using him for sexual satisfaction.  As she felt the dark eyed werewolf take her hand and lead her away, she took one more glance at her sleeping son and the giggling she-demons before she was pulled into the hallway.

* * *

_**LEMON WARNING!  CONTINUE TO THE NEXT BREAK IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ!** _

* * *

 

Faola led Lily into the next room and gently allowed her fellow red-head to lie down on the stuffed goose-down mattress.  She did not rush to kiss her but merely sat on the side of the bed, her hand idly stroking Lily’s cheek and shoulder, enjoying the feel of skin on skin.  Dark eyes watched green as the young vampire mother began to lean forward, her own hand playing with the werewolves’ cheek, her thumb running over the other red-head’s cheekbone before their lips met.

What started as a soft lip massaging pucker quickly escalated in a hunger driven frenzy for the newest castle dweller.  Her body was on fire as she slid her hands through Faola’s long locks of hair, her mouth opening as her tongue begged permission to enter.  The shapely woman reacted with just as much hunger and gasping breaths were rushed whenever lips parted.  Tongues slid across each other as Faola began to lean Lily back onto her back, her upper body gently lying across her lover’s chest.

Lily moaned as her shirt was dragged over her stiff nipples, her left still sore from her son’s bite that evening.  Her lover’s touch burned as she slid her nails gently over her sides and the vampire mewled in want as the werewolf woman’s thick wet tongue dragged across her throat, her blunt teeth nipping at the pale flesh.  She couldn’t help herself as her own hands ran sensually over her new friend’s back to grip her firm round rear and squeeze.

Faola growled at the attention to her body her own desires roaring to life as the wolf whispered in her mind, telling her to dominate her new toy.  Her fingernails sharpened subconsciously as gripped Lily’s tits just hard enough to draw blood.  She had expected a cry of pain but the scream of pleasure sent her over board.  With a violent rip she tore open her lover’s shirt, shredding it beyond all but magical repair and ran her long tongue over Lily’s ample breasts, lapping up the blood before she wrapped her lips around the areola’s and gently bit down.

The red-headed mother’s moan of pleasure urged her on.  Without trying to slide the other woman’s pants from her hips she simply grabbed a bundle of material between her thighs and ripped it away, exposing the swollen and engorged pussy lips to the air.  Her single finger began to tickle the other woman’s wet cunt causing her to writhe with want beneath her and cry out in bliss when her nail would scrape across her engorged clit.

“Oh Merlin, more, more,” Lily gasped out as she felt the other woman teasing her.  Her whispered pleas were answered by the welcomed intrusion of a finger sliding slowly, torturously inside her soaked core.  “Don’t tease me, Faola, just fuck me. Please!”

“It won’t be that easy, Lily,” the wolf woman growled as she leaned upward so her lips just brushed the other red-head’s ear.  “You’re much to quiet, I don’t think you really want it,” she said with joy as she began to pick up her finger’s pace.  The mother’s squirming beneath her edged her onward.  “You like it, don’t you bitch,” she said, eagerly latching on as Lily gasped.  “Oh, you like that don’t you?  You like being dominated you pretty little cunt, well that’s going to be the key for to your pleasure.”

Sliding her finger from Lily’s sopping pussy she teasingly brought it in front of her face before she licked it clean, letting any excess saliva spill into the vampire’s mouth open and wanting mouth.  Grinning Faola stood from the bed and pulled her top over her head exposing her full E-cup breasts, before she casually slid off her pants exposing her ass and pussy lips to the green eyed beauty behind her.  “Come on, slut, come and service your new Alpha.”

Without bothering to think on what she was doing, the vampire dove from the bed resting on her hands and knees like a dog as she happily shoved her face between Faola’s surprisingly tanned ass cheeks and buried her nose into the woman’s dripping cunt before she ran her tongue roughly over the werewolf’s clit.  “Oh, good girl, slut, good girl, make your Alpha happy and she’ll give you your reward.”

Pale white arms wrapped around the tanned woman’s thighs and pulled her flush so that she was practically sitting on Lily’s face.  She moaned as she felt the vampire’s tongue drag across her pussy before jabbing deep inside her core.  Her muscles contracted at the penetration and she felt the buds on the tongue scrape across her inner walls.  She loved it, she loved the feeling of making other women submit to her desire and this is exactly what she had done to the other members of her pack.  Dominate them sexually and force them into compliance.

Her eyes were closed in pleasure at the feeling of domination and the tongue working its way across and into her cunt and she didn’t notice Lily’s hands leave her thighs and make their way to her breasts before her fingers pinched her dark pink nubs and send a violent fire crashing through her body. She didn’t scream out her orgasm, merely clenched her teeth and eyes shut and gripped the other red-head’s hair as she felt her pussy squirt its fluids all over her new toy.

Lily barely had time to gasp at the suddenly ache of her hair being pulled as well as the warm splash of liquid on her face before she was hauled back to the bed by her hair.  She found her body lying face up on the bed before she was unceremoniously handed her own legs to hold open.  She was still disoriented when she first felt the rough tongue of her dominant lover rush over her wanting womanhood.  She wanted more, more of the heavenly feeling of the heavy wet werewolf tongue against her body and she wasn’t disappointed.

It had been so long since she had experienced anything more than her vibrating wand.  Harry’s conception was the last time she had felt another sexual touch and her new sexually demanding body wasn’t having any of that.  But when she felt that thick tongue force its way inside her body she lost it.  Unlike her lover she didn’t hold back the cry of sexual bliss that erupted through her body, her cunt went loose like a volcano as over a year and a half’s worth of want exploded out onto Faola’s face.

* * *

**_LEMON END! YOU CAN CONTINUE TO READ NOW_ **

* * *

 

Lily’s breathing was rough as she attempted to catch her breath as Faola collapsed beside her breathing just as heavily.  “That was wonderful,” the vampire said as she leaned toward Faola, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss.  “I need to go check on Harry, if the succubi are willing to keep babysitting, will it be alright if I came back for the night?”

“Sure,” Faola said with a yawn.  “I think though, before you go, we need to talk,” she started.  “Lily, I’m the Alpha of my pack, and I keep my pack in line through sexual stimulation.  I’m a lesbian and not one to settle down.  You aren’t my girlfriend; you aren’t my new favorite or anything like that.  We can play from time to time, and I and any else in this castle will help keep your urges under control, but I don’t want you thinking this was anything else.”

Lily nodded in understanding, she hadn’t expected anything more.  “I know, I honestly would have told you the same thing.  I’m in love with someone else, but our lives and her choice of missions will keep us apart for a long time.  She’s never even seen Harry,” she said with sniffle at the thought that Harry might grow up to hate his own fath… moth… whatever unless he knew the truth and grew up to be a hell of an actor.  “Let me go check on him and I’ll be back.”

 


	2. Harry Goes to Hogwarts

Harry and Narcissa arrived at platform 9¾s at a quarter after ten with Nymphadora Tonks by portkey. The Metamorphmagus was going to Hogwarts for her last year and though she and Narcissa could obviously apparate the distance between Romania and London was a good bit out of range.  It had been decided that Harry would be going to Hogwarts by process of elimination, and not just the fact that his mother, Aunt Cissy, Aunt Andi, and his crush went there.  The Durmstrange Institute refused to take anything but Pure-blood wizards, and while Beauxbatons Academy of Sorcery allowed crossbreeds a vampire was a bit too much for them.

Harry Potter hadn’t been to England in years, his mother had brought him once, at night for her safety, but the sudden influx of well-wishers and reporters had quickly driven them back over the border.  Now that he was older however, he felt he could handle the onrush of people thanking him for doing nothing more than lying a crib and gurgling.  Really, he didn’t understand why that brushed off his mother’s sacrifice and just dumped everything on him, it was annoying.

“Alright, Harry, do you have everything,” Aunt Cissy questioned him, her eyes moving over him.  The young heir to the Wallachian throne was dressed for a person of his station.  A scarlet Acromantula silk shirt was tucked in to his black slacks of the same color.  Knee high boots fitted with iron plates clanked when he walked, and his robe was made of basilisk hide, but fitted with scales from a particularly fierce Chinese fireball which resembled plate armor for added defense. His long black hair fell in thick waves to his shoulders and framing his dark complexion, a gift from drinking the blood of a drow.

The emerald eyed youth nodded.  “I am pretty sure I have everything,” he said in an accent that brushed both British and Romanian.  Raising his steamer trunk to his shoulder as if it had a feather light spell on it, he smiled.  “You worry as much as mother does, Aunt Cissy.  Aunt Andi helped me pack before she left to arrange her classes.  I’m sure between you, her, mother and Nymphadora I have everything I will need.”

“Good, we don’t want you having to send home for anything, but we expect lots of letters,” she said with smile as she lifted his owl’s cage in her hands, a present sent by the half-giant Hagrid since he had been detained from visiting Harry for his birthday.  Now that she thought of it, a few of the guests had been rather ill at ease, though none would say why, especially Andi now that she was teaching Potions at their old school. “That goes for you as well, Nymphadora,” she said, turning her grey eyes on her niece.

The Metamorphmagus daughter of Andromeda was a product of British punk scene, her pink hair standing high in gelled spikes, the tips a deep purple.  Both of her nostrils were pierced and what appeared to be the spiral of a notebook was worked through the cartilage of her ear and along the rim to her earlobe.  Both her aunt and the famous boy with her knew that beneath the sliced and torn tank top labeled ‘Weird Sisters’, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and probably no panties beneath her ragged, shredded jeans.

Nymphadora’s hair turned red at the name and her excited expression about returning to the school that was her home ten month’s out of the year turned into a sour one.  “I asked you not to call me that here,” she practically hissed.  “You know the other students make fun of it.  Nymphadora the Nymphomaniac, Merlin I hate that,” she growled as she flicked her wand at her trunk causing it to float, her own owl, ‘Mipsy’ balancing in her cage on top of it.  “Why couldn’t mum have called me just Dora, or Cassiopeia, and what was Cleopatra taken?”

“You know very well why your mother called you a gift,” Narcissa said sternly as she began to lead the children toward the train.  “After what happened to your father, she was distraught, the only reason she found the strength to continue on was because of you.  It was the whole reason she broke tradition while naming you.  She didn’t think there was a star or constellation that could hold a glimmer of light next to her baby girl.”

“I think your name is beautiful, Nym… Dora,” Harry edged around her name and decided to pick the one she herself had chosen.  Of course, the eleven year old thought everything about Nymphadora Tonks was beautiful, whether she tried to hide her true features with her metamorphmagus abilities or not.  “It’s a unique name, just like you,” he said turning his head to blush slightly.  “Besides, I doubt a name as droll as Petunia would ever match you.”

Narcissa smirked at the boy’s blush even though he tried to hide it. As the trio came to the train they paused and the older blond woman gave her niece a hug before shooing her onto the train.  “Don’t forget to send your mother my love when you get to class.” She watched as her niece’s hair changed to pink in embarrassment before the girl promised and moved onto the train.  Turning back to the suddenly fidgeting boy in front of her, she smiled sweetly at him.

“Harry, remember it doesn’t matter to us what House you get into, I was a Slytherin, your mom was a Gryffindor, and Nymphadora’s a Hufflepuff.  I would suggest though you stay away from the Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry, it’s better for your studies,” she said with a gleam in her eye that made the young boy think she was about to cry.  “Now, no dueling until you’ve learned properly, no fighting in the halls and I would say no peeping in the girl’s showers, but your godfather being who he is, I doubt you could help yourself,” she finished with a roll of her misty eyes.

“I understand Aunt Cissy,” Harry said just before he kiss his aunt’s cheek and began to make his way onto the train.  “I’ll write you tonight to let you know what House I was sorted into and whether or not I made any friends.  I’ll see you and everyone else at Yule time,” he said with a sad smile before disappeared into the scarlet train, leaving Narcissa alone for a moment before she was seemingly swallowed whole by the air around her as her portkey activated.

This early into the hour, it wasn’t difficult for Harry to find a compartment to himself and easily stored his trunk and a sleeping Hedwig into the over head rack after retrieving one of his text books, _The Dark Forces, A Guide to Self-Protection_. He already understood quite a bit about potions and charms thanks to his mother and Aunt Andromeda, and had even dabbled in alchemy whenever Grandpa Nicholas and Grandma Perenelle would visit.  He even got to find some of the ingredients in the nearby woods when Faola and her pack would teach him to forage and survive for long periods of time away from home.

Shifting in seat to get more comfortable he opened the book to his bookmark and began to read.  No one bothered him until after the train had started moving with a forceful pull off the carriages.  A knock sounded on his compartment door before it slid open, revealing a girl with raven hair as dark as his own and hazel eyes.  She seemed to look him over slightly before her head turned slightly to talk over her shoulder.  “It’s alright Tracy, we shouldn’t have any problems here,” she said in a voice that seemed oddly cold for an eleven year old.  Without as much as a question to him she entered the compartment pulling her own trunk with her.

Following her was who he assumed to be Tracy, a girl with dark brown hair and eyes to match the other girls.  They both held an aloof sort of personality and didn’t bother to ask for help as they struggled to put their trunks and a single owl cage into the rack over the other bench and sat down.  “Hello there,” the girl called Tracy said with a strange sort of spark in her eye as she took in his obvious expensive clothing.  “I’m Tracy Davis, this is my half-sister, Daphne Greengrass, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“We’ve never seen you around any of the balls or gatherings,” Daphne said, also seeming to take in the fact the boy in front of them was dressed with an air of wealth to him.  “I would assume you are not from England judging by the cut of your robes.”

Harry glanced up from his book and saw them staring back with only an expression of mild curiosity and decided to engage in conversation.  “I apologize, I am from Wallachia, the magical community of Romania,” he said honestly, and while I was born in this country and have visited it before, I am uncertain of your customs.”  He stood and bowed slightly to the girls who had simply decided to barge into his compartment, “I am Harry Potter, Heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, Prince of the Blood Throne of Dracula, and a first year student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

The two girls stared at him in surprise for a moment before they jumped to their feet, Tracy just a head of Daphne and curtsied.  “We had no idea who you were,” Daphne said, her cheeks suddenly feeling warm at the thought she had burst into the compartment of a Prince and the Boy-Who-Lived.  “We can collect our things and leave if you want.”

“No, please stay,” Harry said with a smile as he returned to his seat.  “I have met so few people my own age, and I wish to grow more accustomed to speaking to my peers once we are inside the castle,” he admitted.  “Please, tell me, what House do you plan to be sorted into?  My mother was a Gryffindor, and my aunts were Slytherins, and another girl I grew up with became a Hufflepuff, so I know of at least those three Houses.”

The talk about houses was not all that informative for Harry, the only house he hadn’t heard stories of were Ravenclaw and Professor Dumbledore had merely smiled at Harry and told him it was a secret whenever he asked.  By the time the conversation would have become stalled on the Houses a very kind elderly woman shambled up to the compartment and slid open the door.  “Excuse me, sweeties, I was wondering if you wanted anything odd the trolley.”

Having never really been one for sweets, Harry thought it was polite to observe the lady’s wares, and moved to the hall.  Across from his own compartment he could see an oddly surely looking red headed boy, alone and eating corned beef sandwiches with a displeased appearance.  The boy’s arms and legs were too long for his body, from what Harry could see, and a smudge of something black lingered on the side of his long nose, and more freckles than the Irish redheaded werewolf back home. After a glance at the sweets he smiled at the woman and fished out a small handful of coins and pushed them into her hands.  “I’ll just have a few of these Blood-Pops and whatever else can be taken out of the change, please give to that red headed fellow on my compliments.”

He paid no attention to the woman gawking after him as he returned to his seat with his gains and unwrapped one of the red colored lollipops and put it in his mouth.  Seeing the girls eyeing him curiously he shrugged and pulled the confection from his mouth.  “It isn’t bad, not really blood, far too sugary for that, but it does have the coppery aftertaste.”

“So it is true then,” Daphne said after a moment’s pause.  “Our father told us rumors about you having become a Dhampir, a living vampire, after that night; apparently it was all over the Ministry of Magic.  The Undersecretary for the Minister tried to pass a law so you couldn’t attend and have you labeled a Dark Creature, but Fudge wouldn’t allow it. He seemed to think labeling the Boy-Who-Lived would be in bad taste,” she said giggling at the irony.

“I’m not so sure it’s about labeling as it is tarnishing an already pre-existing label, and possibly starting a cold war with Wallachia,” he said after giving it some thought and a few more sucks on the candy.  “It probably seems more prestigious when the heir of another country turns down the nearer school to attend your own.  Besides, I have it on very high authority that the Ministry is forbidden to interfere with the school unless a professor cannot be found for a subject, in which case the Ministry may appoint someone to the position.”

“It’s funny, I thought you would have glasses honestly,” Tracey said changing the subject.  “I doubt many would believe you were Harry Potter since you don’t fit into the approved appearance of what people thought.  There were rumors for years that you would appear just like your father, but your mother’s eyes, but I’ve seen pictures of James Potter and you look extraordinarily different.  I suppose you got most of your facial structure and the way your hair falls from your mother.  You also don’t have a scar, people kept going on about some lightning scar or other on your forehead.”

Harry didn’t say anything, he knew who his parents were, and who had stood in for James Potter in the role of ‘father’, but wasn’t permitted to say, and the only scar he had was on his knee when he had fallen off Faola during one of her packs hunts under the full moon.  “I suppose I do take after my mother a great deal,” he said slowly, looking at his reflection in the window to gauge is own appearance.  “I have never given it much thought how much I take after my parents.  I guess I take more from Dorea Potter nee Black’s side of the family. I never had a scar on my forehead, I wonder why they would have assume such a thing.”

“I thought I saw some Black in you,” Daphne said with a nod.  “Of course, judging by your grandparents it could be obvious why.  I’m surprised more people don’t try and connect you to the pure-blood families.  You are related to just about all the old families, even the Longbottoms and Weasleys,” the raven haired girl explained.

“Yes, I am quite up to date on my family tree,” he answered.  In his mind he ran over just how many families now had blood mixed with his own and how many nationalities and soon found himself losing track.  “I would say the only family I am not attached to is the Malfoy Family, not after the scandal that was Narcissa Black leaving Lucius Malfoy before a week had passed after their vows.”

Tracey nearly giggled but bit her lip to keep it in.  “It was a scandal when word got out,” she admitted.  “You should have seen the faces of Lucius and Draco Malfoy when Sirius Black stood in front of the entire Wizengamot and demanded that Lucius stop sullying the name of Black with his ridiculous decrees of Draco’s ancestry.  It turns out Draco’s mother was actually Lucius’ cousin back in France.  Needless to say, the Malfoy’s packed up and moved to Paris to escape their humiliation.”

“Oh, what’s this now,” a voice very familiar to Harry said as the compartment door swung open again.  The two noble birthed half-sisters could only stare at the older girl in something between shock and horror as Nymphadora Tonks entered the compartment.  “Only a few hours out from London and already your wooing the local virgins, Harry Potter, I always knew you had it in you,” the punk girl said as she fell onto the bench next to him and put her boots up into his lap without worry.

“Ah… Dora,” he said politely as he absentmindedly put his hand on her leg and began to stroke it through the rough material of her pants.  “May I introduce you to Tracey Davis and her half-sister Daphne Greengrass?  Ladies, this is Dora Tonks, daughter of Professor Black and youngest member of the Black family.  They have been pleasant enough to keep me company on the ride so far.  I would hazard to say, we were well on the way to becoming acquaintances.”

“Wotcher,” the spiky haired girl said without much preamble and turned back to the boy who her feet rested on.  “Look Harry, I promised your mum I would at least keep tabs on you during the ride, and be sure you made friends with the proper sort.  You know, no Death Eaters or sympathizers, that sort of thing?” As she spoke she watched the two girls for a reaction at her comments but seemed pleased with their lack of reaction except for a slight upturn of their nose at being possible bigots.  “Well these two seem alright.”

Daphne seemed to get over her shock first and spoke on their behalf.  “Well I should say so,” she said with a cold tinge to her voice.  “Our father never gave much credence to the thought of blood purity.  While my mother is a pureblood, Tracey’s mother is a muggle.  All three of them are happily married, and have even been pushing our father for another marriage in the hopes for more children.”

“Well, I didn’t need your life story, luv,” Dora said with a smirk, “but that will do.  So, Harry I see you found the bloodpops, I didn’t know if you would even look at the cart so I got you some,” she added with a smile as her hand traveled into the front of her pants, causing the two girls to gasp before she produced a number of the candies.  “These jeans don’t have pockets, and I hate bras, don’t really need them either,” she shrugged as her chest swelled, pushing out the material of her shirt.

“Dora is a metamorphmagus,” Harry explained to the girls as he took the candy and laid it out beside him on the bench.  “She has been my oldest friend since before I could walk.  We grew up together and my saddest days for the last six years was when she would come to Hogwarts and left me alone.  Now though, I have followed her and soon I shall be leaving her behind while I attend school.”

The group slid into companionable conversation for a while, though the two sisters seemed uncomfortable with the closeness Dora and Harry shared.  After several more hours, Harry left so the girls could change into the robes, while he would be staying in the robes he had brought along, only slipping on a tie over the collar of his shirt.  “One of the perks of being a foreign diplomat, my dears, I can wear whatever robes I desire, so long as my tie and house crest are visible,” he said tapping a spot on his dragon scale armor that was bent slightly to resemble a crest.

As the train slowly crawled to a stop a voice floated through every compartment telling them to leave their things as they would be picked up later and moved to their dorms.  Stepping from the train Harry got his first look at the small town of Hogsmeade and thought it was rather picturesque, like a painting.  “Hi’a ‘Arry, you doin’ a’right,” the booming voice of a certain grounds keeper called.  Harry turned toward Hagrid and smiled at the half-giant who had visited his home many times over the years.  “Good, good, gla’ ta see a smile,” the big man said before he raised his hands and gave a big sweeping motion “Firs’ years! Firs’ years this way,” he called out.

A small group broke away from the older years and made their way after the massive figure as he led them toward a grove of trees.  “I’s tradition that firs’ years go separate from the older ‘uns,” he explained as he started down a path.  “Mostly so ya can see this,” he called back as he broke the far tree line and there several gasps and awe sounds as the first years got to look at the castle for the first time.

Harry had to admit, it was a different feeling from seeing his home from the outside.  Hogwarts gave off a feeling of warmth with windows glowing with fire light as it stood against the evening sky.  Its turrets and towers reached for the very stars themselves just beyond a vast lake that twinkled in the moonlight.  Just beyond both was a forest with sweeping trees that swayed ominously in the distance.  “No mo’ than four to ah boat,” Hagrid said as he led them toward a dock where a small fleet of boats awaited to take them across the black expanse.

Harry soon found himself in a boat alongside the two sisters and a young man with blond hair and onyx eyes who didn’t seem to want to give his name.  As the boats moved Harry watched the surface the lake, broken only by the slightly chilled wind of early autumn and what appeared to be a tentacle reaching out of the water and waving in the distance.  All in all, the trip was rather serene in tone, and seemed to relax the living vampire.

“Watch yer ‘eads,” Hagrid’s voice called as they reached a cavern half hidden by ivy.  Inside the cavern was another dock, as well as stair leading up and through the ceiling.  It didn’t take long for them to come to a halt in front of a large closed door, and Hagrid at the front reached up with an anvil sized fist and knocked.

After a pause the door groaned open, revealing a tall witch with a rather severe look upon her face.  Her eyes took in the students, stopping for a moment on Harry’s robe before sweeping back to Hagrid.  “Thank you Hagrid, I’ll take them from here,” she said after a pause and stepped aside as the big man walked by.  “Follow me students, we are still preparing for your sorting,” she said with no seeming smile of welcome on her face.

She led the group past a set of doors where they could hear voices talking quite loudly and into a side chamber.  Once all the children were in she looked them over.  “I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor and I formally welcome you all to Hogwarts.  The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses.  The sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts.  You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.”

After several more minutes of speech she stopped.  “I suggest you all smarten yourselves up before the ceremony,” she said with a glance at the red headed boy and his smudged nose, and another boy who had somehow managed to fasten his cloak beneath his left ear.

Deciding not to worry that much about what was to come, he observed the flagged stone floor before turning his attention to the stone walls, running his finger over the smoothed rock before something caught his eye.  It was a message signed at the height a seventh year would stand, and nearly impossible to see in the flickering torch light, but it brought a smile to Harry’s face.  “Mooney, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs proudly welcome the ickle firsties to their first year at Hogwarts.”

“I’m glad you find that amusing, Mr. Potter,” McGonagalls voice called out him, causing his head to turn to her while the others turned to look at him.  “It should amuse you, since it was your father and godfather who put that there.  We still can’t figure out how to get it off,” she said with a shake of her head.  “Now, first years, if you would, form a line and follow me and we’ll have you sorted.”

Harry didn’t mind not being first, or last, to enter the Great Hall, his eyes taking in his surroundings carefully.  Up at the Head Table he could see his Aunt Andromeda smiling at him, as well as Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid.  There was a strange man with a purple turban sitting next to a small being who at first appeared to be simply a dwarf, but on closer inspection, and judging by the sharp teeth and long crooked nose, was a half-goblin.

“It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside,” someone behind Harry said, and he would have turned to see who it was if he wasn’t trying to walk in a robe.  “I read about it, in _Hogwarts, A History_.” Wondering what the girl was talking about, Harry looked up and nearly dropped his jaw at the blanket of stars twinkling high above and the lazy clouds rolling by the moon.  Idly, he wondered what happened when it rained.  Would his toast get soggy?

His attention returned to the front in time to see Professor McGonagall sit a rather worn looking hat upon a stool.  He wondered if it had anything to do with the sorting, and his question was answered when the hat ripped at its brim and began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

　　But don't judge on what you see,

　　I'll eat myself if you can find

　　A smarter hat than me.

　　You can keep your bowlers black,

　　Your top hats sleek and tall,

　　For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

　　And I can cap them all.

　　There's nothing hidden in your head

　　The Sorting Hat can't see,

　　So try me on and I will tell you

　　Where you ought to be.

　　You might belong in Gryffindor,

　　Where dwell the brave at heart,

　　Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

　　You might belong in Hufflepuff,

　　Where they are just and loyal,

　　Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;

　　Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

　　if you've a ready mind,

　　 Where those of wit and learning,

　　Will always find their kind;

　　Or perhaps in Slytherin

　　You'll make your real friends,

　　Those cunning folk use any means

　　To achieve their ends.

　　So put me on! Don't be afraid!

　　And don't get in a flap!

　　You're in safe hands (though I have none)

　　For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

 

Harry sighed, he wasn’t sure why, but the knowledge that all he had to do was try on a hat was seemingly a load off his mind.  He could have sworn he heard someone mutter something about a troll, but decided to ignore it.  After the applause for the hat died down, Professor McGonagall returned to her position next to it.  “When I call your name, please walk forward, sit on the stool, and I shall place the sorting hat upon your head. Abbot, Hannah!”

Despite the list going in alphabetical order, it wasn’t long before the raven haired dhampir heard his name called. “Potter, Harry!”  Ignoring the gasps and whispers, he walked calmly toward the stool and sat down, allowing the brim to black out his vision before he heard a voice inside his head.  “Ah, Occlumency, it’s been a while since I met a child who could shield his thoughts from me.”

“My mother taught me before I came, she says I have a lot of secrets that cannot get out,” Harry spoke back, allowing the thought to escape his mental barrier.

“Understandable, quite understandable,” the hat replied.  “However, I must see into your head to be able to sort you. Perhaps if you condensed your shields for the moment to protect only your secrets, I would be able to sort you and let you go and eat.”  After a moment waiting as Harry’s shields did lower slightly, but still held his secrets close, the hat continued. “I see, I see, so much here inside your head, and, ho oh! Mr. Potter, oh my, so many lovely women, so little clothes.  It is times like these I wish I were made from Rowena’s thong and not Godric’s hat.  Now where do I put you?”

“I see, you agree with your aunt that neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin would benefit you, though you certainly have traits of either.  Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness, but you are already great aren’t you?  What good is ambition when your comfy chair is a throne?  You have courage, plenty of that, but you want to make friends, rather Hufflepuff of you.  Oh my, just saying Hufflepuff makes you think of her… like that, well you are naughty, Harry.  Ah, a thirst to learn.  You are in a school, friends are fine, but in another country, knowledge is power.  I see, better be… RAVENCLAW!”

Harry heard the last bit shouted to the school and smiled as the McGonagall pulled the hat from his head.  He heard the eruption of noise and applause and had to look at the banners over the houses to find Ravenclaws, before he moved to sit down.  Once seated, he looked to see the half-goblin was ecstatic, practically bouncing in his seat while Professor Dumbledore tipped his goblet in Harry’s direction.

Aunt Androme… Professor Black was grinning at him, as she waved, now knowing where he was sorted she didn’t have it in her to care where the others were going.  As Head of Slytherin House, she was saddened that he wasn’t amongst her students, but he wasn’t in Gryffindor, which means he was out of the rivaling houses all together.  She smiled at the thought that she would need him to attend extra potions classes, or help her with various potions so she could spend time with him.  She had missed so many precious moments in his life since she came to take over for Professor Slughorn, but now she could wave it in the other’s faces that she had him for ten months out of the year, and they would only see him on holidays and over the summer.


	3. Tests

“There, look!”

“Where? Oh, you mean by that hot Ravenclaw prefect?”

“Did you see his face?”

“Did you see her ass?”

“Did you see a scar?”

“What are you, gay?”

“How come I can’t wear robes like that in school?”

The questions followed Harry ever since he left the Ravenclaw dorms, accompanied by the fifth year prefect, Penelope Clearwater.  The reason Harry had asked her to escort him to breakfast was easy, he didn’t want to get lost.  As they had passed the third floor corridor in time to see the red headed boy from the train being shouted at by a rather annoyed looking man with slick greasy hair that fell around his face and a hooked nose for trying to enter the forbidden corridor.

“That’s Severus Snape, he’s Filch’s assistant,” Penelope explained before waving her fingers at a boy yelling out a ‘Hello’ to her.  Harry didn’t bother to tell the girl he knew perfectly well who Snape was.  The witches inside the castle back home had put up a special ward just to keep him out after only a month since Harry had come to live there because the hooked nose pest had constantly come to bug his mother.  “He’s a fowl bat of a person,” Penelope continued, and Harry bristle at the insult to nocturnal winged animals worldwide.

  Penelope was quite a delectable girl and he’d admit that it had influenced his decision to pick her over the other prefects in Ravenclaw to walk down to breakfast with her on his arm.  She had auburn hair that seemed to naturally bunch together in strands, and clear bright aquamarine eyes.  Even in her school approved robes, her figure was amazing, and at fifteen she had medium sized breasts, and Harry was certain it must have been his magic causing her robe to cling to her tight rounded ass that made plenty of boys in the hallways drool.

“I’ve heard of Severus Snape before,” he told her nicely, leaning a bit into her side conspiratorially.  He explained the constant badgering the man had done trying to win his mother over and how he had to be forcefully banished from their home.  “He just cannot take a hint, he believes their fates are intertwined and they are destined to be with one another.”

“Uhg,” the prefect shuddered at the thought.  “I would hate to see something like that happen to me,” she admitted.  “There is already this one boy, Percy Weasley that stares at me in classes some times.  He seems nice enough sometimes, but he’s such a stickler for the rules that I doubt I’d ever have any fun with him,” she explained.   “I hope he doesn’t end up being a stalker or something like Snape, I’d probably have to do the same as your mother.”

Harry smiled, remembering the story he had heard of a combined blasting hex slamming the greasy haired man through the double doors of the castle after he had dared to try and feel up Lily Evans.  “I think it takes a certain type of sleaze to become one of the Severus Snapes of the world,” he said with a smile and patted her arm.  “Now, let us finish speaking about the floor mopping fool, tell me about yourself, Penelope,” he said, touching on his foreign accent, he had heard women loved accents.

Unsure of what the youth meant, Penelope began talking about the classes she was taking and her goal of becoming a Healer for Saint Mungos’ Hospital for Magical Maladies.  While she talked Harry mused on her name, and how like the Penelope of ancient myth and judging by the boys in the hall, she would have many suitors.  A nearly feral smile was bitten back as he thought of his own leg up on them, being a vampire and having a natural allure helped with turning a girl’s head.

As the two of them reached the ground floor of the castle, Harry was only slightly surprised to see Dora leaning against the wall, her black robes shifting to fit her body.  As the seventeen year old woman noticed Penelope’s arm on his, her blue eyes shifted to black as her usual pink hair went red.  Without meaning too, Harry gulped as she pushed off the wall and made her way toward them with a plastered on smile on her face.  “Wotcher, Harry, I’m glad to see you made it down alright,” she said sweetly, a tad too sweetly.  Turning to a surprised Penelope the older woman continued speaking.  “Thank you bringing him down, Clearwater, I’ll take it from here.”

The aquamarine eyes of the prefect flashed from the older girl to the doorway nearby.  “Well, the Great Hall is only right there, I’m sure no one would mind if we all went together,” she said trying to remain chipper despite being faced by a twitching daughter of House Black.  “Why don’t you sit with us at the Ravenclaw table?  There is no rules against sitting with other houses after we receive our times tables.”

After a moment of quick thinking, Harry slid in between a Dora, who he was sure was snarling, and the confused prefect.  “I am thankful for you bringing me down, Penelope,” he said kindly.  “However, I feel as though Dora wishes to discuss something in private.  I will visit with her and then head inside to retrieve my time table.  Thank you again,” he said with a bow, before he felt a sudden tug on the back of his very expensive robe and noticed his feet weren’t even touching the ground as Dora began to carry him away.  “Bye Penelope, I hope to speak to you again,” he said with a smile and a wave before Dora turned a corner.

It was several minutes of being led away from the Great Hall before Dora came to a stop, throwing open a door before tossing the young boy in.  Harry gazed around at the inside of a broom closet and turned back toward the Black daughter as she squeezed her way inside before shutting the door.  Thankfully, Harry was a night predator and his eyes quickly adjusted to the shadows as he watched Dora cast a great number of spells around the tiny room.  “There no one will find us,” she said with a sigh before she grabbed the eleven year olds’ head and planting a heavy wanting kiss on him.

A shudder of want passed through the young man as his hands wrapped around the older woman’s plump ass and squeezed.  The two bodies seemed to try and become one, but the height difference stopped Harry and Dora from becoming flush.  Stepping back from the boy, Dora winked as she pulled her robes open, revealing no clothing underneath.  “Come on, M’lord, breakfast time,” she said with a devilish smirk as the eleven year old seemed mesmerized by her body.  “No, no, no, you can’t have desert until after dinner, and its still early morning,” she purred as she hefted her heavy breast for his attention.

Nymphadora was a tough young woman and didn’t even flinch as a set of fangs pierced her flesh above her nipple.  She felt the pull on her veins as well as the pull at something inside her chest and morphed her body enough to begin producing milk.  A smile slid onto her smile as she felt a deep sense of belonging as she looked down at the raven haired boy attached to her breast.  She lifted her left hand, entangling it in the Wallachian Prince’s hair to draw him closer as her right hand slid toward her core as her breath became labored in want.

She was shocked though when the door to the cupboard ripped open, revealing her mother.  Despite her want, her body jumped at the sight of a glaring Professor Black, glaring at her with one hand on the door knob and the other hand on her hip.  “Nymphadora, I expected better of you,” she lectured, not bothering to disrupt Harry’s meal as she glared at her daughter.  “You know better than to try and feed our Lord without supervision, especially for the first time.  You won’t know when to stop him before you die.”

The dark haired professor gently reached out to touch the youth’s shoulder and pull him away from her daughter’s body.  “Harry, sweetie, I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said kindly as the boy’s hypnotic green eyes turned to her.  “I know you’re hungry but you need to get your test time from Professor Flitwick,” she explained.  Looking back toward her daughter, her eyes raked over her exposed body and she sighed.  “Dora, I think we need to talk.”

Sliding out of the cupboard, Harry readjusted his cock inside his robe, and turned to his Aunt Andi.  “I apologize for any infraction against the rules Professor Black,” the green eyed prince said as he looked up and down the corridor for any other signs of life.  “I would like to arrange a meeting tonight, between the three of us in your office if that is agreeable,” as he spoke, his hand moved to cup Andromeda’s hot cunt through her robe.  Ignoring Dora’s jealous glare, he finished speaking.  “The Whores of the House of Black are mine,” he growled.  “I mean to stake my claim tonight.”

Without a glance backward, he swept away down the hall, his boots clanging as he made his way toward the Great Hall to receive his schedule for classes.  For the moment, he tried to ignore his arousal as he went to eat more mundane food.  Stepping through the large doors that lead to the house tables, he easily spotted his latest pray, and moved to sit next to the fifth year prefect.  “I do apologize to you Penelope Clearwater, but an issue came up that I felt needed my attention.”

The auburn haired prefect smiled as Harry sat down and began to load his plate with food.  “Oh, is that what you call an older woman coming and carting you off,” Penelope said teasingly as she nudged the young boy’s shoulder.  The girl had put her Ravenclaw mind to the task of what Nymphadora had wanted with the newly sorted boy.  In the end she had simply put it off as possible friends wanting to spend time together.

By the end of his breakfast, Harry learned that a schedule for classes would not be produced before the first year students would sit through a test while the other students were in class.  The test would decide which classes the students would go to, rather than simply clumping everyone together by year and house.  Many first years, especially pure bloods, ended up in basic studies classes, having to learn what the muggleborn and halfblood students learned in primary, while it wasn’t unusual for the latter two to appear in classes alongside second or third year students.

 Hogwarts offered many classes, as mandated by the Queen onto the British Ministry of Magic that included mathematics, English, science and social science.  Depending on what you could test out of decided which classes you would take.  Then there were the magical classes, Theory, Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, Herbology, Potions and Flying for first years. History of Magic was covered by social sciences, which had a few history electives.

Harry was thankful for his mother and the other women back home for forcing him to go to muggle primary and actually pay attention and study.  He had never been more grateful for study and hard work than when he came face to face with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.  The two reminded him of gorillas, not just because of their size and slumped shoulders, but because of their intelligent grunting mode of communication.  The vampire child had instantly discarded them for body guards, if he was going to hang around with someone or a few people all day, he wanted servants he could talk to and enjoy looking at.

He was currently between tests, having exited the Great Hall after his English test when he first met Ronald Billius Weasley.  The young Gryffindor was rather brash, Harry admitted, as he stood nearby the red headed boy and listened to him brag about their supposed friendship.   Turning to see who the boy was talking to, he smiled at the sight of two girls who had been sorted into his house the night before, Lisa Turpin and Padma Patil.  “Me and Harry go way back, he needed a friend after what happened to him, and I’d go visit him and his mum during the summer.”

“I am afraid, I remember none of these visits,” Harry said, startling the red headed boy and causing the two girls to giggle.  “Miss Turpin, Miss Patil, it is nice to see you again,” he said with a tilt of his head.  “I apologize for not being talkative last night and avoiding the common room.  I was quite fatigued from the journey to England and the train ride.  Please, allow me to properly introduce myself, I am Harry Potter, Prince of Wallachia, Heir to the Ancient and Most Noble Houses of Potter and Black.”

Lisa, a pretty blond girl blushed at the accent, and held her hand out to the famous boy, only to blush harder when he kissed her knuckles softly.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, your Grace,” she said with a smile. Beside her, Padma held out her hand to the boy and received the same kiss on the hand that she did.  “I’m afraid I don’t have any fancy titles, I’m a muggleborn and my dad manages a grocery store.”

“Grocery stores are an important facet of life,” Harry said with a smile at the blond girl, his emerald eyes gazing passively into her bright blue eyes.  “We no longer live in a world where hunting and gathering is the common way of life and without groceries most of the population would starve.”  He smiled as the blond girl smiled as he seemingly accepted her and didn’t put down her father’s muggle job.  “What about your parents, Miss Patil?”

The raven haired girl from Indian descent smiled as she was pulled into the conversation.  “My father owns several apothecaries across England and my mother is a potion mistress working for St. Mungos,” she answered with a shrug.  She, like Lisa, didn’t feel embarrassed at all about the career her parents had chosen.  Just because the green eyed boy in front of them was royalty didn’t mean she had to feel belittled for being a commoner.

Smiling Harry turned toward the red headed boy.  “I believe your name is Ron Weasley, correct,” Harry asked nicely as he promptly sat between Lisa and Padma, casually tossing his arms over their shoulders.  “Tell us about yourself, Mr. Weasley.  I believe I heard about your brother Percival this morning from Miss Clearwater, and I think the red headed twins in Gryffindor are related to you as well.  It must be fun to have male siblings I grew up surrounded by women with little male influence.”

The red headed boy swallowed heavily now that it was his turn in the spot light.  His eyes darted back and forth as though looking for a way out.  “My dad works for the Ministry of Magic,” he said nervously.  “My mom stays at home, with seven us she didn’t have time for a career,” he explained.  “Yeah, Percy and the twins are my brothers, their names are Fred and George, and my little sister will be coming to Hogwarts next year.”

“Your mother alone produced seven children,” Harry asked seemingly hung up on the thought.  He had long ago decided that he wanted a large family, and had many plans on making that dream a reality.  Casually he looked at the two girls at his sides wondering if they would make good mothers to his brood.  “Your family is very blessed, Mr. Weasley.  Many can only hope for the security and love a family that large would be able to produce.”

The conversation was halted however, as they had to go back to testing.  Harry knew a great deal about history and politics, it was they were practically mandated by his position.  He was lucky that his family held so many long lived creatures and people that they knew much of both subjects from having lived it.  While many countries belonged to the International Confederation of Wizards and had long since become democratic, Wallachia was not one of them. 

While they still dealt with many of the nearby governments and ministries, Wallachia had a long standing treaty with the ancient empires that still held sway over magical people.  The Ottoman Empire had a grip of iron on the Middle Eastern countries, while the Persians held most of the southern and southeastern Asia.  The Pharaoh, Cleopatra VII, held North Africa in the 80th dynasty of Egypt. It had been in thanks to those treaties that Wallachia had not been over taken by the nearby Ministries during the century the throne had been vacated.

It had been on a visit to Egypt to introduce Harry to the then heir, Cleopatra, that Harry had visited the Library of Alexandria, restored and rebuilt by the magical rulers and was over seen by the priests of the Egyptian Pantheon.  Harry had learned quite a bit on that journey, and was putting his knowledge to the test against the paper in front of him.  Later, when he heard the stories of the ghostly teacher, Binns, he was glad he had tested into a higher year of study.

As the tests came to an end, the first years were led into the small antechamber they had been kept waiting in the night before.  Instead of Professor McGonagall this time it was Professor Sprout who was smiling at them.  “Alright children, we’ll be grading your essays and judging by your scores we’ll be deciding which year level of classes you will be attending.  You have the rest of the afternoon off, classes will be wrapping up shortly, just remember to be back in your common rooms after dinner.”

Grinning, Harry left the room and instead of moving up the staircase toward the Ravenclaw common room, he headed instead toward a nearby group of older students.  “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of Professor Black’s office,” he requested politely.  One of the older kids was nice enough to point him down the hallway leading off toward the right, and he moved to follow the directions given.

He found the potions classroom easy enough after turning a few corners.  It was set at the end of one of the castles many wings, with two vast windows facing east and west, and a fireplace roaring along the southern wall.  Slipping inside, he didn’t see his Aunt Andi anywhere, and no students, as he peeked at the jars along the wall.  Each jar held a potion ingredient suspended in a potion that prevented rot, with a labeled name written just beneath it.  Diagrams of proper potion preparations were fastened to the walls in between shelves filled with books on the subject.

“Ah, Harry, so glad you found this classroom,” Andromeda said as she entered shortly after him, clutching a large stack of papers in her hands.  “This is the first year classroom, the lab is down the hall,” she explained as though he needed to know why the flame pits they would suspend their cauldrons over weren’t apparent.  “You’d be surprised how many people bring cauldrons on the first day of classes.  It’s almost as if they expect me to let them begin brewing on the first day!  Most of these children I wouldn’t leave in a lab without a proper authority figure watching over them.”

“It does seem extraordinarily dangerous, Aunt Andi,” the first year admitted as he followed her into her office through a door next to the fire place.  “I came across a student of interest today between classes,” he said, as he watched the older woman put the papers on her desk.  “A Mr. Ron Weasley, he was telling tales about visiting us for the summer months, but I let it slide, what he did mention was the number of children in his family.  Apparently, his mother has birthed seven children, quite a feat if I do say so.  I thought it was nearly impossible for a witch to have more than two.”

“Ah, Molly Weasley, the warp hole for life,” Andromeda said with a giggle as she sat in her chair.  “No, Harry, it is quite possible for witches to have more than just a couple of children, but you must remember the fear of war at the time you and Nymphadora were born.  Not many couples were brave enough to have large families, afraid, I suspect of what Voldemort would do to them.  Those who opposed Voldemort’s insane goals feared our children would be murdered, and Death Eaters were too busy, murdering, raping and torturing to have families.  Magical Britain suffered and our population is lower than it has ever been.”

The raven haired boy nodded at the well established knowledge as he felt himself pulled into his aunt’s embrace and sat lightly on her lap.  He smiled as he cuddled into her, wrapping his arms around her sides, as she kissed his forehead.  It had only been a single night, and he had missed the soft hugs and touches of the older women he knew.  There had been no one there to kiss him goodnight, or tuck him in and he was embarrassed to admit how much that had stung at his heart.  At least Andi was nearby, he knew he could come to her whenever she wasn’t teaching a class and be held the way his mother usually did.

“Aunt Andi, I was thinking about the idea of children today,” Harry admitted, and felt the older woman stiffen slightly, before she seemed to relax.  “It is okay, I know I couldn’t have you bear a child without you needing to take time off from work.”

“That is true,” Andi said with a disappointed sigh.  It was hard, even for the older women not to fall in love with the young preteen, but damn it, it seemed as though each and every one of them had fallen for him.  “Did you have someone else in mind?  I could think of several ladies who would drop everything back home and come running just to be able to claim to be the first one to carry the next generation of Potter.”

Harry shook his head, he would be getting to those at the castle soon enough, but they weren’t who he wanted at the moment.  “I am not asking for permission, Aunt Andi, but I’m going to impregnate Dora,” he said with authority, allowing just a bit of his natural allure to leak out and hopefully turn the woman’s mother to his way of thinking. 

“I’ve seen this coming for a long time, Harry,” Andromeda said as she pet the child’s head, dragging her nails along his scalp.  “You’ve always looked at my daughter like a puppy looking for a home, and I have no problem with you wanting to be with her.  But, I know Dora, she has hopes and dreams that will make her want to put off having a child.  She wants to take auror training after she graduates, and she can’t do that if she has to raise a baby.”

In her lap, Harry frowned at the thought that Dora wanted to become an auror.  Did she want to leave him behind?  What if she had met someone here at Hogwarts?  He couldn’t help the feeling of his heart breaking at the thought that she was in love with someone else.  He sometimes hated his allure, it sometimes worked to change the minds of the opposite sex, but he hadn’t managed to get it beyond that, yet.

“She’s leaving me,” he asked in a whimper, shifting away from the professor to better look at her face.  Andromeda’s heart ached when she saw the tears in his eyes that were threatening to fall.  She cooed softly and wiped his face with her hand, accidentally causing the tears to begin to fall.  She didn’t expect the fierce hug that suddenly engulfed her body.

“I’m not leaving,” a voice said from the door.  Andromeda turned to see her daughter leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed.  “You didn’t tell him everything, mother,” Dora said with a frown as she walked into the room and around her mother’s desk to stand in front of her chair.  “Harry, sweetie, I’m joining the aurors to protect you better,” she explained as she leaned down and wrapped her arms around the boy, lifting him out of her mother’s arms and pulling him onto her lap as she sat on the desk.

Dora smiled as the young boy clung to her, burying his head into her tits.  “Sweetie, I’d be happy to have your baby when I get done training,” she said gently, rocking Harry back and forth.  “Besides, I doubt you can even ejaculate yet, My Lord.  When I graduate from the aurors in a few years, you’ll be fourteen, and probably ready to have children by the time you’re fifteen.  That doesn’t mean we can’t play until then though.”

“R…really,” Harry asked, sniffling as he glanced up at the pink haired auror-to-be with wet eyes.  His watery smile caused the older women to coo at how cute the little love struck boy was. 

“You bet, cutie,” Dora said with a smile as she pulled him to her chest again for a hug.  “I can’t just now though,” she said with an uneasy chuckle and a glance at her mother.  “As it turns out, I completely forgot about an essay for Professor McGonagall on the procedural steps to realize a person’s animagus form.”

“WHAT! Nymphadora you said you finished all of your homework,” Andromeda snarled as she jumped up out of her chair.  “You better go get that essay done, and I’ll talk to Minerva to find out how good a grade you get, young lady.  I swear to God, if you don’t get above an Acceptable, I’ll personally see to it that you won’t be going to Hogsmeade for Halloween!”

“Aw, come one Mum! Not in front of my new boy-toy!”


	4. Magical Theory with Professor Vivacious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, a bit of information to go along with this chapter, and why certain things are being changed around. For submitting the 100th review over on FFnet, I offered xxPercyRoxxx a prize, he could name someone to add to the harem, get a one shot challenge, or introducing a plot point. He chose to add Hermione to the harem, and as a man of my word, she will be. 
> 
> I originally did not plan to make Hermione a member of the harem, fuck, I didn't even really have her in the story. So expect a Hermione in this story that will have to be drastically changed personality wise over time. Because there is no way in hell Canon!Hermione would agree to being one of many.
> 
> Also, I apologize for the chapter length, writing something by hand makes it seem a lot longer than it does by typing. Next week we should be back to full length chapters.

His tongue lazily dragged across the quivering lips of Nymphadora's pussy, the taste of her juices clinging to his tongue.  Green eyes glanced up from between ivory legs, penetrating beyond the globes of the metamorphmagus' breasts to lock onto her glazed pink orbs.  "Oh Master," the woman purred as her back arched off the her mattress.  Never before had the seventh year been so happy to be the only girl in her year in Hufflepuff.  
  
Despite the agreement between her and her mother, Dora had no intention of giving up her Lord and Master.  She was, after all, the first one to have his tongue plunder their cunt.  She had been an exceptionally horny fourteen year old, and tricking a seven year old into getting her off had been far to easy to pass up.  Not that she didn't get her pussy licked by others at the castle, but the thought of being the Count's first had been something she couldn't let slide by.  
  
Her breath became labored as she felt herself hit the edge of a orgasm, her legs kicking at her blankets as the dhampir boy slurped on her core.  "Gods, Master please, please send me over the edge," she growled as her nails shredded her sheets.  "Fuck! Let me cum, please, Lord, let me cum, god damn it!"   
  
Grinning like a fool, Harry's fang slid over his lower lip before he sank them into her flesh, just beneath the older woman's clit, letting his blunt front teeth scrape at the sensitive nub.  The spark of pain was enough to send Dora over the edge.  With a scream her hands lanced toward the boy's head, holding him close to her shuddering womanhood as he gorged himself on a mix of her juices and blood.   
  
Releasing his bite, young Harry crawled up Dora's body, laying his sweat and cream covered face down on the seventh year's breasts.  "That... was... delicious," he murmured between pants.  Idly, he let his tongue snake out of his mouth and lick at the older woman's breasts, sending shock-waves through her hypersensitive body.  
  
"Fuck," was all the Dora could get out before she reached up to stop her lover's tongue from caressing her heaving globes.  Her hand seemed to move of its own accord to run its fingers through the youth's long raven hair.  "Well, one thing is for certain, I won't be getting pregnant from that," she said with a lecherous, but tired, smile.  "You had better get back to your dorm room, Master.  Lots of classes and learning in the morning to get to."  
  
With a sigh, Harry nodded his head.  He hated it when people were right and he had to stop doing something, or someone he loved.  Leaning his face up to match Dora's he pressed his lips against hers, their tongues having long ago explored every corner of each others mouths, simply caressed one another.  The mix of saliva, blood and Dora's juices mingled heavily before Harry leaned back, leaving the mix of fluids to be swallowed by his longest lover.  "Night Dora," he whispered before his body faded, first becoming see through, than intangible before it swept from the seventeen year old's dorm room as a mist, easily passing over the stairs leading to the girl's dorms and through the space between the Hufflepuff dorm's door and its door jam, back into the halls.  
  
Harry awoke the next morning to the sight of beauty leaning over his bed.  His eyes opened in surprised aggression at first, before he sighed seeing the deep auburn hair of Penelope hanging down around her breasts.  "Time to get up, Harry  Breakfast will be served soon and I'm sure you want to take a shower and wash your face before you pick up your schedule," she said with a teasing smile.    
  
"What are you," he started to ask before he felt something around his mouth crack and licked his lips tasting the mix of Dora's cum and blood.  "Oh," he mumbled before sitting up, letting the heavy woolen sheets that Hogwart's provided for its students slide off his chest.  Not feeling the least bit ashamed, he flipped his sheets off his naked body and stood, stretching.  He was certainly glad he didn't have to share his living quarters with the other Ravenclaw first year boys, it seemed being a foreign monarch had its advantages at Hogwarts.  
  
He smirked hearing Penelope's gasp at his naked body as he moved toward the bathroom to get ready for the day.  He was mildly surprised when he exited his bathroom fifteen minutes later to see the fifth year prefect sitting on his bed, seemingly watching the wall.  "You could have joined me if you were bored with waiting, Miss Clearwater," he said with an impish grin as he moved toward his trunk to fish out his clothes for the day and get dressed.  
  
"It wouldn't be right," the fifth year beauty commented bashfully, her eyes trailing over the first year as he got dressed.  Without thinking about it, she licked her lips as she watched the boy's fit swimmer's build and muscles move beneath his skin.  She didn't see the boy's smirk as he flashed his allure in short bursts.  While she wouldn't be divesting her body of clothing just yet, it certainly but the thought into her head.  
  
Finally the young prince finished putting on his boots and slid his robes over his body.  "Shall we be going down to breakfast than, Penelope," he asked innocently, breaking the woman's stare as the spell was seemingly lifted.  The two smiled at one another before they made their way down from the dorm rooms, one completely oblivious to the machinations of the other that was subtly and slowly pulling her in.  
  
In the Great Hall, Harry received his first time table from the diminutive half-goblin professor of Charms.  His morning schedule was filled with mundane classes, with the magical half of his education filling the afternoon.  After lunch today, he would be joining the Gryffindors for Magical Theory, a class that would dominate his magical education for the first semester, before a double period with the the Gryffindors for Potions. With a resolute sigh, he stood to make his way back to the dorm to get his books for Advanced Mathematics, Ancient Literature, and Physics,   
  
As he moved through the corridors to return to Ravenclaw, he found his way blocked by a wall of black cloth.  His green eyes blinked in confusion before he looked up into the sneering expression of malice that belonged to the assistant custodian.  "Well, well, Mr. Potter, our new celebrity," he hissed, as his void-like eyes glared down his long twisted nose.  "Out in the corridors without the proper uniform?  I do believe that's a ten point deduction from Gryffindor and a month's detention," he sneered gleefully.  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow at the greasy haired 'former' Death Eater and raised the would-be potion master a look of complete disgust that his often saw his mother preform when she spoke of the man in front of him.  "Severus Snape," he nearly spat out the name.  "You surprised me, I thought I had at least a month before you grew enough of a backbone to try something," he admitted flippantly.  "First, I'm in the proper robes befitting a person of my station, shouldn't you be in overalls and an apron?  Second, I'm not in Gryffindor you sniveling toady, I'm a Ravenclaw, and I need to get my books."  
  
He was almost surprised to see the nearly unfathomable fury that crossed the older wizard's face at the word toady, but remembered his mother's comments on Snape's ego being just as colossal as James Potter's while they were in school.  "Oh, you don't like 'toady'?  How about 'lacky,'" he asked before he noticed Snape's wand appear into his wand.  "No, not 'lacky', how about 'flunky'," he questioned, but quickly found himself staring down the shaft of the man's wand.  "Flunky it is," he remarked dryly.    
  
"As much fun as this has been, Flunky, I have to get my books for class.  How about you," he remarked putting his finger against the tip of the man's wand and pushed it to the side, "go see the Headmaster and see if your detentions are going to stick.  I'll be visiting him after classes today, probably with Professor's Flitwick and Black to give my side of the story, and probably a memory of this little encounter. Ta ta, Severus, and enjoy your lecture," the youth said with a chuckle before his body seemed to explode, creating a torrent of bats that squeaked at and buzzed against the assistant caretaker's face, careful to avoid the twisted trap that was his hair, before zooming back up the corridor toward the Ravenclaw dorms.  
  
With no more problems that morning, Harry made his way to Magical Theory after lunch and decided to sit toward the front of the classroom, but not in the front row itself.  Theory was a mandatory class for all first years, with the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors sharing the first period in the afternoons and Hufflepuffs and Slytherins sharing the second.  Settling into his seat, Harry pulled out his copy of the course text book, written by Adalbert Waffling.  Along with his book came his notebook, and a pencil, pen, and just in case, a quill and inkpot.  
  
It wasn't long before other students began to trickle in.  While he nodded to those he knew to be in Ravenclaw, he was surprised when two Gryffindor's decided to flank his seat.  On his left was the long nosed red head from the day before, who had professed to being Harry's 'best friend', and on the other was a boy of dark complexion with a stiff nose but laid back air about him.  "Hello again, Mr. Weasley, may I ask why you and your friend have decided to surround my person?"  
  
"We need to keep you away from them thinkers," Ron said proudly as he gestured toward his dorm mate.  "That's Dean, don't worry, he's an artist or whatever.  He's absolutely enthralled with some game called football.  I don't know why, just one ball and you don't even leave the ground.  It sounds positively boring if you ask me."  
  
"Well no one did, Ron," Dean snarked back.  Shaking his head he turned to the boy between the two of them.  "I'm sorry about this, but Ron has some sort of aversion to complicated thought.  He seems to expect that the more knowledge one gains the more powerful that person becomes, and the more powerful you are, the easier it is to go 'dark'."  
  
Harry tried to untwist that particular piece of thinking to see if it was any basis in logic for several seconds.  "Knowledge is power, but power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely," he finally managed to get out.  Somehow, he almost felt dumber for trying to see things from the redheaded boy's perspective.  "As much as I can, almost see the logic in that, I'm afraid I can't allow such poisonous thoughts," he said while attempting to remain civil.  "Once I graduate from this school, I have a kingdom to rule, so I can't allow myself to fall behind in my classes."  
  
"I understand that," Dean said with a smirk toward his room-mate who was trying to hide a scowl at the thought of Harry becoming dark.  Any other conversation was cut off by the arrival of their teacher, Professor Vivacious, a blond woman with a body that seemed to emit its own holy light.  Her heavy breasts were only restrained by her form fitting robe, though they were obviously not conquered, and her thin waist and wide hips rocked back and forth hypnotizing every male in the classroom.    
  
"Good afternoon class," the Professor said after a quick roll call.  "I'm Professor Vivacious, and all of you with your wands out can promptly put them away please.  This is a theory only class, and you will not be using your wands until the second semester when you begin your more strenuous magical classes," she spoke in a calming whisper of a voice that somehow permeated the classroom, making Harry's spine shiver in pleasure. "Now, who here has read at least introduction at the front of your books?"  
  
After seeing the hands of the Ravenclaws and only a handful of Gryffindors, the Professor smiled as if getting the answer she had expected. "This class will be covering the various types of magic that fill our world as well as well as different ways to access and manipulate these powerful energies.  The first type we'll be covering in this class is one most Wizards and Witches in Britain use for the sake of convenience, the magic that resides inside us all and can be manipulated and focused through a wand.  Can anyone tell me what gives us the ability to use magic in such a way when muggles or mundanes cannot?"  
  
At this Ron raised his hands appearing rather excited to know the answer, nearby another Gryffindor's hand shot up like a rocket, nearly jerking her out of her seat.  Harry's gaze swept to the overly excited girl, taking in her bushy hair, not able to see much else about her since she was sitting in the row in front of him.  He barely heard the Professor to call on Ron to answer.  "It's because we have magical cores that fill up with magical energy and expand over time to give us greater strength," he answered with a smile.  
  
"I'm sorry Mr. Weasley, it seems as though you are using one of the out of date text books from the early eighties," the Professor said with a frown tugging at her plump lips.  "As more 'muggleborn's have begun studying magic with an acute eye learned from mundane scientists, our understanding of our power and its ties to the universe have expanded well beyond the theories of our more primitive ancestors.  What we understand as magic is a quirk in our genetic makeup, a dominant gene that is passed down through families that carry this marker.  There is literally no such thing as a true muggleborn, except for our earliest ancestor who developed the mutated gene," she explained.  
  
"This mutation gives us an uncanny ability to manipulate the very fabric of the universe, a power long since believed to be the work of 'gods'.  The power inside of us is merely a quirk of the brain that allows us to change the world around us as we see fit, using our wands as a learning tool to help us 'see' what we want to happen and then forcing the universe to make it happen.  It is a dangerous ability we wield but when used correctly and with the well being of others in mind, it can blossom into a powerful tool for good, now who else can name another type of magic?"  
  
This time, it was Harry's hand that was raised, as well as the bushy haired girls and many other Ravenclaws.  When his name was called, Harry tried to remember how his vampiric family had come into their own power.  "There is divine magic, both Celestial and Demonic, that comes from the realms beyond our own universe.  It this time of magic that powers creatures like Angels and the Old Gods, to Succubi and Demons.  Usually magic of this type is summoned via ritual, but can also be gained by consuming the energies of fallen demonic foes or blessed or cursed by Celestial beings.  Vlad Tepes, the original Dracula was damned to a demonic existence supposedly by the Creator after an argument over who held the right to judge and punish the wicked.  My own ancestor, Gabriel Belmont, received his powers from defeating the demonic Lords of Shadow, and claiming the title of Dracula after Vlad went into torpor."  
  
"That's quite insightful, Mr. Potter," the professor said with a smile, and Harry could practically feel Ron's body bristle at the acknowledgement.  "While Mr. Potter has greater insight into Dracula line than I could ever profess to know, the Divine branches of magic are powerful, far more so than what we as mortals can produce.  Another power that can dwarf our own abilities is Earthen Magic, a branch of magic that calls upon the existing power in the universe, to aid us, This power is generally more often used by the mundanes with the knowledge to use it, often in ritualistic fashion," she continued.  
  
"For tonight, I want you to write an essay on these three types of magic, on your parchment please, to be handed in two days from now when we next reconvene," she said.  "Next time, we'll be going over Runes, Rituals, and Abstract magic, like the curse on the Defense Position.  At the start of next week, we'll begin going in depth into Magic and Genetics, and what Laws and Theories that we have discovered that keep us from the realms of the divine," she said, just before a loud gong rang throughout the castle signalling the end of class.  "Also, be sure to read chapters one through three in your text books in preparation for a class discussion, next class, it will be a double period."


End file.
